Everyone is sleep, under a spell
Slow dancing the waltz music of a self-sabotaging hell
And loving it
Loving being in the dark
Loving the ignorance
Loving being lost
Insanity has become the reality
Of the progressive,
in which I want no parts of
If this is progress take me backwards
Back to when love conquered all.
Back when knowledge and wisdom were reverend
Back when compassion was around at every corner you turned
Why can’t weeping be brought down to a minimum?
Why can’t suffering disappear?
Exchange happiness for all of our fears?
Why are the simplest of things hard?
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